


Home

by CallMeCheerios



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, Spacedogs - Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Vulnerable Nigel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 19:18:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7450984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeCheerios/pseuds/CallMeCheerios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a quote from the movie Charlie Countryman:<br/>“I understand when you lose someone who’s your home, you know, your only home in the world, and when that happens you think, "oh fuck I should've had a back-up home. Another person, a place, a thing something to make me feel safe, and I don’t have that. And now I’m lost.’”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

Things were going well for Nigel. It had been touch and go there for a while, doubts and remorse creeping in, telling him that crossing the Atlantic and settling in LA of all places wasn’t a bright idea. But Nigel was a fighter, always had been, always will be. He’d had to fight for everything he’d ever had. Nothing was given freely, everything was earned. He fought day and night to keep what was his and didn’t always succeed. Case in point, Charlie fucking Countryman. The little lost boy without a place to call home had stolen his. Nigel would probably never know what had become of Charlie and Gabi. Perhaps it was better that way. 

Living a life that skirted the expectations and rules of legal society was more than an adrenaline rush. It was an inescapable addiction. His old life had been a gateway drug. He’d moved on. He’d traded up. And now he was completely strung out. Two years had passed, and it’d felt like a lifetime. It was a hard life to live, and the city was even harder. It fed all of Nigel’s vices, but that didn’t make it heaven on earth. It just made it more obvious that LA was a lonely place. There were millions of people but too few friendly faces. Making friends had been a near impossibility, especially with the hours he kept. It didn’t help at all that he got paid to be social. 

These days he spent his nights schmoozing rich assholes. He took their money, counted out his cut, and showed them around town. His bosses sold them a fantasy come to life, one full of booze, drugs, hot women, loose morals, and no consequences. Nigel played tour guide. Each night it was a different crowd, but the men were all the same. They were in town on business, looking to party, and they paid dearly to do so. For an ungodly sum, they’d be guaranteed an evening of opulence and overabundance with a hefty dose of debauchery should they want it. And they always did, because in the morning they’ll have turned back into pumpkins. They’ll wake up, groggy, disoriented, desperate to cling to the fuzzy memories of the night before. Eventually they’ll drag themselves out of bed, shower off any lasting trace of their wild adventure and go back to their normal lives. They’ll order their fancy Starbucks concoction, hop in their mid-life-crisis-mobiles and go back to their cookie cutter homes, plastinated wives, below-average, over-medicated kids, and soul-crushing jobs. 

Meanwhile Nigel got to stay behind and wait for the next batch. Night after night, he showed these men greener pastures, rife with their hearts desires for the taking, while he himself pretended to feast on their envy. Nigel’s vanity had little to do with his looks. He knows he’s handsome: he’s been told as much many times. But his sense of pride had always come from being powerful. To have what others wanted gave him something to lord over them and fueled his sense of self. It’s what prompted him to keep going day after day in the beginning and had allowed him to laugh and play along with the drugged up sycophants who slurred inelegantly at him in the wee hours of the morning as the party wound down. Being repeatedly told that others wished they had his life helped him coast for the first few months. 

Nigel knew they had no idea what his life was really like. If they knew they wouldn’t be envious. They’d probably even ask for a refund. It was all part of the illusion they paid for: Nigel wasn’t himself on nights when he worked. He was merely playing a part. It was method acting at its finest. No one cared about love lost and found, life’s hardships, or what the future would entail. The experiences being bought were all about the here and now. That they were all just trying to cover up feeling out of place and out of sorts and wholly inadequate had no place in their festive evenings. And so they partied, told themselves they were living, not trying to forget. They filled whatever hole persisted with booze and lines and purchased companionship. They partied until the sun came up and Nigel was off the clock. Then could be himself once more, whoever that was. 

In the quiet, dimly lit hours of the morning, just as the rest of the city was preparing to wake up and start their days, Nigel would try not to dwell on how it no longer sustained him. The drive home was unfailingly tinged with the bleakness that came from one too many drinks and the inescapable feeling that you’re too old for something you used to love. He used to just go home and drink more. He’d drink until he no longer felt Gabi’s nagging, judgemental stare upon him. He didn’t do that anymore. Her face had long since been replaced by another. Whenever he thought of love and forever and all the ways he wasn't good enough, it isn’t Gabi he saw. The new gaze that haunted him had light blue eyes and seemed too delicate to touch. Nigel knew those eyes just as surely as he knew he’d ruin the man they belonged to. Such innocence was fragile, and Nigel’s life was an earthquake. He was being shaken apart, his own seams exposed and fraying. He couldn’t imagine what kind of damage he would inflict on Adam.

Yet Adam was a stubborn creature, and Nigel was incapable of denying him anything. They’d met purely by accident. How else could they have? Nigel was a holdover thug, a man of drugs and violence who prowled through the city at night and took cash in exchange for corruption. Adam lived in the daytime, had a job that was smart and complicated and something Nigel didn’t quite understand, just like Adam himself. Nigel was crass and foul-mouthed where Adam was contemplative and reserved. They functioned and viewed the world so differently. They ran in very different circles. Nigel couldn’t fathom how Adam could possibly want him. But somehow Adam refused to be persuaded that Nigel was no good for him. 

He’d seen Nigel as some sort of pet project at first, almost a study in human nature. Nigel liked to think that he intrigued Adam and held the some indefinable allure, but mostly Adam was determined to understand how Nigel worked since he was such a far cry from everyone else Adam seemed to know. Nigel was happy to let Adam study him, ask odd, occasionally invasive, questions. No one had ever taken the time to really understand what made Nigel tick. It was painful in a way, to bare himself so thoroughly, but it was also freeing. No one knew Nigel like Adam did. It made him feel cherished. Nigel, however, was still trying to figure Adam out. 

Nigel was perplexed by him in the beginning; all too soon he was smitten. Adam was an odd one to be sure, but everyone had their quirks. Adam’s were just a little more pronounced, and Nigel would happily gut anyone who made Adam feel bad about being himself. They’d formed an unusual friendship that had someone morphed into more. It was gradual yet sudden in the way that only the inevitable can be. It seemed like everything had been building towards the two of them being together since the beginning of time. Of course neither of them realized as much until one particular moment when it somehow became unbearably obvious. Shorly after that, Nigel had moved in with Adam, reworking his life to mold it around Adam’s as best he could. The long nights didn’t compliment Adam’s schedule. They interrupted Adam’s need for order and routine, and Nigel felt guiltier with every passing day. Every atom in his body urged him to stay close to Adam, to keep him safe and happy. The worst part though was that some days Nigel couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the worst person for the job. 

There was a light on in the front window as Nigel pulled into the driveway. He imagined it was Adam shining through the dusk. Adam was the brightest spot in his life; he felt drawn to him as he made his way inside. Nigel toed off his shoes by the front door, setting them side by side, perfectly aligned next to the other pairs. He padded down the hallway in his socks, shrugging out out his jacket as he went. He undressed quietly at the foot of their bed, untucking his shirt and following the line of buttons down his front. He pushed down his trousers, leaving them and the rest of the clothes in a heap near the foot of their bed. He knew he’d wake Adam, the second he crawled under the covers, so he took his time circling to his side of the bed. He watched Adam sleep sprawled on his stomach across his half of the mattress. 

Nigel gingerly lifted the sheets trying to memorize how the early morning light played on Adam’s features. It would be completely daylight far too soon. Adam’s alarm would go off, and he’d start his routine. Nigel would stay in bed and sleep away the day, hopefully with pleasant dreams of an evening spent in Adam’s company before returning to work once the sun had set. Nigel laid down, sinking into the mattress sighing softly. Adam stirred and wriggled closer, not bothering to lift his head from the pillow and look at Nigel. 

“Morning, Gorgeous.” 

“Mmm,” was Adam’s sleepy reply, although it came with a hint of a smile. His slow rise to wakefulness was such a stark contrast to his usual alertness. It made him seem even softer, gentler than he already was, and it made Nigel’s heart ache. “What time is it?”

“Too early. Go back to sleep.” 

“Okay.” It was as simple as that. Adam turned his head away and curled onto his side. The arch of his back nestled against Nigel. Adam settled the bottoms of his feet against Nigel’s calf and whispered, half asleep, “I missed you. I’m glad you’re home.” 

“Me too,” Nigel murmured in reply, the truth of the words hitting him sharply. He missed Adam every moment they weren’t together. It drove him to the point of distraction. And now, laying side by side in their bed, he listened to Adam’s light snores and watched the sun rise. Everything else faded around him until it was just the two of them. His guilt and worries, all that troubled him, melted away. He was home.

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbeta'd...I apologize in advance since I'm awful at proofreading my own stuff.


End file.
